Eliza opened the door to her small condo, stepping into the darkness that enveloped the space. From within, she spotted radiant silvery markings emanating an otherworldly glow. Flicking on the lights, the room revealed her mother, seated patiently in a chair, adorned in black leather attire.
With a deliberate movement, her mother raised her right leg, crossing it over the left, while her fingers rhythmically tapped on the armrest in annoyance. The luminous markings were still visible, exposing the tattoo she had attempted to conceal – one among several adorning her neck and collarbone.
Amidst the scene, Eliza caught the sound of muffled sniffling right beside her. Dawn, her eyes red from crying, stood beside her mother, clutching the very same silvery syringe that had been used on her before. Eliza's mother fixed her lips into a tight line as her gaze settled upon her daughter.
"Why were the two of you at Witcher's Place?" Eliza's mother tilted her neck to the side, her eyes locking onto Eliza, awaiting an answer.
"I needed to arm myself since you won't give me any answers," Eliza replied firmly.
She moved toward Dawn, freeing her from her mother's grasp. Dawn swiftly got up, her boyfriend emerging from the shadows within the house. His intense green eyes bore into both Dawn and Eliza with a menacing glare.
"I don't know who he is or why both of you are in my home."
Eliza knew from what Miss Canary had revealed that her mother had visited Ravamere. But the woman in front of her wasn't truly her mother. Her stance exuded readiness for combat, as if poised to strike at any instant. She twirled a broomstick behind her back and began a slow approach.
"Didn't I warn you that you're in the midst of your transformation?" She reached out, capturing a strand of Eliza's hair between her fingers. "You're drawing in evil," her voice whispered near Eliza's ear.
"I think the evil is already present," Eliza moved her head away, her gaze piercing her mother's eyes. The once-greyish blue hue had shifted, now a mere light gray.
The acrid scent that had accompanied her recent confrontations hung in the air, though it could also be attributed to David's presence. Eliza's mother was unaware of the other mystic battle that had occurred in the same space. It all started to piece together – her mother had been nearby when they were at Witcher's Place, but they had lost track of her movements.
Why had she returned to abduct Dawn?
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" she said, the indifference clear in her tone. Mom cleared her throat. Her boyfriend positioned himself in front of them, and the atmosphere in the room grew tense. Dawn glanced up, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Eliza, how did you find out about that store?"
Eliza remembered the time Mom had mentioned the store while using the syringe to cure Dawn. When it showed up on Google, she had decided to go and explore it herself. But she decided not to remind her mother about that moment, fearing she might erase Dawn's memories forcefully.
So Eliza simply replied, "Google," which was true.
Curious, her mother's boyfriend asked, "What were you doing there?"
"I wanted to see what tools witches use in their everyday lives. Is that a big deal? How else was I supposed to learn to defend myself?"
"Use your broomstick," Mom interjected. Her boyfriend wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.
Unfazed, Eliza approached him, introducing herself, "I don't think we've met properly. Hi, I'm Eliza, Grace's daughter."
"I know who you are," he replied, his gaze shifting between Eliza and her mother. But instead of returning the introduction, he remained silent and strolled around the house.
"Well, that was rude," Eliza commented.
"Don't mind him. He's not the easiest," her mother defended.
"It's funny how you can't even tell your own daughter that you're dating someone."
"Your life is separate from mine."
"Clearly. So why do you keep getting involved in mine? If you're so keen on keeping secrets from me, maybe I should just change the locks to our condo." Eliza's mother looked at Dawn and then back at Eliza, seemingly unaffected by the sharp remark.
"As long as you're alive and safe, that's alright with me. I came here to see if you still had the rose I took from you when you were little."
Eliza struggled to accept it, but her mom was truly changing right before her eyes. Eliza couldn't share what Miss Canary had revealed about her mother's growing corruption. Maybe she was already in the midst of it? She had no clue how to guide her mother back to purity. Everything felt overwhelming. Unanswered questions lingered, and she felt lost in the face of this abrupt transformation.
To avoid a confrontation, Eliza resorted to lying. "I thought you broke the stem of that rose that day." In truth, the rose had burned into red ash on the bookcase shelf. After encountering Miss Canary, Eliza had placed the rose there.
But what was the significance of this rose?
Eliza observed her mother's eyes scrutinizing her face, searching for hints of any knowledge about the flower's whereabouts. Eliza evaded her gaze, clutching her broomstick tightly. Her grimoire caught her eye, resting on the couch in the living room. Her mother's boyfriend picked it up, leafing through its pages.
"It's not so easily destroyed. It's a special rose, and I need it," her mom stated.
"For what?"
Her gaze swept around Eliza's home. Then she turned and walked over to her boyfriend, who tore a page from the book. Eliza bit her lower lip, her attention shifting to Dawn. Dawn's eyes darted towards her room, followed by a subtle nod. It seemed like she was signaling that the rose was in her room.
How did Dawn have the rose when Eliza didn't?
The sound of books crashing to the ground and couch pillows tumbling filled Eliza's ears. "What are you doing?" she exclaimed, rushing over to them. Her mother's boyfriend wasted no time – he shoved Eliza onto the floor, causing her to land on her rear with a grunt.
"Eliza, are you okay?" Dawn's voice carried concern as she rushed to Eliza's side, helping her up.
"She'll be fine," Eliza's mother laughed, dismantling the bookcase. "It's in here somewhere. I know it is," she muttered under her breath.
Books were hurled around, and then her mother stormed into the kitchen. The sound of shattering glass reached Eliza's ears. She rose, stepping into the midst of her mother's chaotic fury. Seeing her mom like this was painful. This boyfriend had truly changed her, and not for the better. Miss Canary had said that she sensed he was the root of all this trouble.
"Mom, what has this guy done to you?" Eliza pointed at her boyfriend, who was now pacing around the counter. Her mother glanced up at her, her palms covered in cuts from the broken glass.
"I want to help you." Eliza pressed her lips together. "Please, stop this," she implored, taking slow steps towards her mother.
"I need to deal with someone, and if you don't have the rose, then stay out of my way. I don't have time for games." Her mother shoved Eliza aside, causing her to collide with the refrigerator.
Jared staggered down the stairs and leaped onto a counter. "Oh, hi," he greeted, waving his paw. She glanced at him, brushing off his greeting. Something was amiss; her demeanor had turned haughty and impolite.
Eliza's mother's expression shifted, her worry becoming evident. She had once told Eliza that if anything happened to her, Eliza should go directly to Miss Canary. Eliza couldn't understand why her mother was looking at her like this, or why her relationship with Miss Canary seemed strained despite wanting Eliza to turn to her. Eliza recognized that look; it never boded well.
"My, oh my, what an entrance you've made, Grace," Jared's voice rings out from the stairs.
Grace knits her eyebrows together and tightens her lips, her fingernails tapping on the table beside them. She clicks off her broomstick and slips it into her back pocket, then exits the house with her boyfriend, not uttering a single word.
"What's going on with her, seriously?" Eliza mutters, watching the door shut.
Eliza turns to Dawn, asking, "Did she do anything to you? How are you feeling?"
Eliza wonders if Dawn recalls anything about David. She scans Dawn's skin for any bruises, but finds none. She bites her lower lip, thoughts swirling about her mother's strange association with that man. Could he be a witch?
"No, she didn't really do anything. It just felt like she wanted to harm me."
"Are you guys discussing Grace?" Jared hops off the counter. "I knew this day would come. It's her own doing. She's on a hunt for that rare rose Miss Canary gave to you."
Jared bounds upstairs, and Eliza and Dawn follow him into her room. Emerging from beneath her bed, he holds a rose in his mouth, gazing at Dawn and Eliza.
Eliza supposes that Dawn didn't have the rose, after all.
"I've been keeping it hidden from your mother for some time. I can't recall why it was so important to keep it concealed," Jared admitted.
"Let me take a look at that for a moment," Eliza requested.
He hopped onto the bed and released the rose from his mouth. The rose appeared lifeless, although some of its crimson hue still retained a vibrant glow. The instant Eliza picked up the rose, a sharp and intense pain shot through her right arm.
Eliza recoiled, her eyebrows furrowing as the sensation hit her. It was akin to someone wielding a knife, scraping her skin away.
"Jared! What should we do?" Dawn's voice trembled in panic.
Eliza collapsed onto the ground, her arm numbed by the searing pain. She bit her lip, inadvertently bruising it, her fingers clenching into a tight fist.
The burning agony in Eliza's arm subsided, replaced by a swift and icy sensation. She glanced at her arm and noticed intricate leafy patterns swirling around its midsection. The patterns crawled upward, marking only one finger – the middle finger. A silver tattoo had been etched onto her right arm.
"Maybe... I shouldn't have given you that rose," Jared's voice wavered.
Eliza looked at him, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah... thanks!" She lifted her arm, observing frost forming. "Ow."
"What on earth just happened?" Dawn exclaimed, kicking the rose away from Eliza.
"I have absolutely no idea," Eliza replied, her gaze fixated on the gleaming rose.
"I'm so sorry, Liza," Jared offered remorsefully.
"It's okay. I guess you could say I'm marked now."
Dawn's gaze remained fixated on the rose, curiosity evident in the way her fingers twitched by her side. Eliza could practically feel the pull of Dawn's unspoken desire to reach out and touch the enigmatic bloom, to unravel the mysteries it held. "I wonder if it will mark me too," Dawn's voice carried a mix of wonder and trepidation.
Eliza's frustration simmered beneath her surface, her eyes narrowing as they bore into Dawn's intent expression. It was almost as if Dawn was inviting trouble with open arms. "Dawn, seriously, it's not a good idea to touch it. You're not a witch, and who knows what could happen," she admonished, her tone a mixture of concern and annoyance.
Rolling her eyes, Dawn dismissed Eliza's caution and took deliberate steps towards the rose, her fingers extending towards it. "Oh, come on, don't be such a worrywart," she retorted, her voice laced with playful defiance.
"Dawn, please, just listen—"
But it was too late. Dawn's fingers brushed against the petals, and Eliza braced herself for the unexpected. Except, nothing happened. The air seemed to hold its breath, and both girls stared at the untouched rose in bewilderment. Dawn's triumphant grin broke the silence. "See? What's the worst that could happen?"
Eliza exchanged a perplexed glance with Jared, the series of bewildering events leaving her feeling off-kilter. The run-in with David, the cryptic revelations from Miss Canary, her mother's sudden relationship – it was all adding up to a decidedly peculiar chapter in her life. School attendance had also slipped through her fingers, leaving her with a jumble of emotions and a growing sense of disorientation.
As Dawn settled onto the bed, breaking the silence, the weight of the situation lingered in the air. "You ever planning on digging into why your mom is so fixated on that rose?" Dawn's question hung there, heavy with curiosity.
Eliza shook her head, her gaze distant as she considered Dawn's query. "Nah, it's not worth the effort. If Miss Canary's words hold water, my mom's knee-deep in whatever she's tangled up with. It's like trying to untangle a web you can't see," she admitted, a note of resignation underlying her words.
Miss Canary's words lingered in Eliza's mind, a shadowy revelation that Grace was spiraling into corruption. Jared's constant presence at her side spoke volumes; Eliza was convinced he held deeper knowledge about Ravamere than he let on. To help her mother conquer the turmoil she was facing, Eliza realized that intervening to prevent her from venturing into that dark place was her only course of action.
The 'J' pendant on Jared's necklace jingled lightly, catching Eliza's attention. Nervously, she bit her bottom lip before gathering the resolve to stand before him.
"I need you to tell me how to get to Ravamere, Jared," she blurted out, her voice tinged with urgency.
Jared recoiled, his fur bristling in a surprised shock at Eliza's audacity. Swiftly, he leaped onto the window shelf, scanning the outside world for any potential threat. He turned back, one paw resting on the shelf's edge.
"Are you out of your mind? Why would you even utter the name of such a malevolent place? Do you comprehend the gravity that name holds?" His voice held a hint of hissing urgency, and he hopped down to stand before Eliza. "Why would you even consider going there?" His gaze darted between Dawn and Eliza. "I've emphasized this to you countless times – you're a fledgling witch in this realm. Corruption can grasp you far more easily than a seasoned practitioner."
"I get that, Jared, but we went to Witcher's Place and spoke with Miss Canary. She suspects my mom is headed for Ravamere," Eliza countered, pacing the room with mounting anxiety. "Something about her new boyfriend is influencing her. I need to prevent Mom from reaching Rav—uh, that place."
"Ridiculous. Your mother's well, just dealing with some challenges."
"No, she's not! Have you not noticed how she's been acting lately? It's beyond the initial erratic behavior; she's changing, and I know you've seen it too." A flicker of remembrance crossed Eliza's mind. "There's a passage in my grimoire that talks about this."
Eliza's memory faltered as she struggled to recall the specific details from the book. Leaving her room, she strode into the living area, brushing books aside with frustration. She knew her grimoire was somewhere here; her mother's boyfriend had been scrutinizing it.
Crossing her arms and balling her hands into fists, she rested her chin on her knuckles. Amid the scattered volumes, the purple cover and silver-glowing spine of her grimoire caught her eye. Reaching down, she picked it up, thumbing through its aged pages.
She was certain there was information in the book about dealing with witches. Flipping past the pages on mystics, she encountered a torn page that piqued her curiosity.
"It all clicks into place!" Eliza exclaimed, her voice filled with revelation. Ears perking up, she caught the faint sounds of Dawn and Jared descending the staircase. Her lips parted slowly, as if she were piecing together the puzzle within her mind. "He's a Verel."
The rhythmic rustling of pages reached Eliza's ears, blending with the approaching footsteps of Dawn and Jared. Her lips parted, her eyes widening as the truth became clearer. The pages in her hands turned, the sound almost a whisper, revealing that her mother's boyfriend had deliberately torn out the Verel page.
Eliza's realization deepened – the grimoire mentioned the Verel's sinister practices, their predilection for luring female witches into their dark ways, gradually leading them into corruption. This man had been manipulating her mother, driving her toward Ravamere for his own nefarious agenda.
"What on earth is a Verel?" Dawn's voice cut through the air, tinted with a mix of confusion and disbelief. Eliza closed the grimoire and turned to Dawn, who was earnestly cleaning up the disarray in their home. A sense of melancholy seemed to hang around Dawn, the weight of recent events heavy on her shoulders.
"They're a group of male witches who taint female witches," Jared chimed in, offering his explanation.
"The Verel brotherhood," Eliza continued, picking up the thread. "Mom's boyfriend ripped the Verel page right out of my grimoire. I remember seeing him reading the book while she was trashing the place."
Dawn paused her cleaning, her gaze lifting to meet Eliza's, her expression a mix of concern and intrigue.
"He must be a part of the Verel. That's why Mom's been frequenting that corrupted place," Jared added, his ears drooping slightly, whiskers twitching. His gaze wandered towards the bookcase behind Eliza. "Mom's slipping into corruption under his influence."
Miss Canary's warning echoed in Eliza's mind. She could see it now, the pain, worry, and anger in her mother's eyes. Grace was spiraling out of control, teetering on the edge of becoming something darker, something sinister. Eliza felt a pang of desperation – her mother was slipping away, and unless something changed, she might be lost to this malevolent path forever.
"We have to get to that place, Rav—where she's been going," Eliza corrected herself, determination cutting through her voice.
Jared leapt onto the arm of the couch, his posture tense. "I won't tell you where it is. It's far too dangerous."
"Jared, how else can I save Mom?"
His gaze briefly shifted towards the window, then back to Eliza. "I'll handle it."
"You can't possibly do it alone."
He started walking away, only to turn back and say, "You don't know what I'm capable of. I'm trying to keep you safe."
"Safe from what, Jared? What are you protecting me from?" Eliza pressed, her voice tinged with frustration and confusion.
"Maybe from yourself," he muttered, his words hanging in the air like a haunting echo.
"What?" Eliza inquired, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
With a resigned shake of his head, Jared leaped onto the window's shelf, then gracefully slipped out through the window.
"I don't feel good about any of this, Liz. I mean, from what it sounds like, your mom is slowly fading away," Dawn's voice held a touch of sorrow, casting a somber spell over the room. The atmosphere seemed to quieten around Eliza, allowing her thoughts to take center stage.
Eliza's heartbeat seemed to echo in her ears as she glanced at the book cradled in her hands. A nagging feeling tugged at her, a sense that she might have overlooked something, perhaps a crucial piece of information about enchanted roses. Her gaze drifted to her new tattoos, the silver hues shimmering under the room's lights. They bore an uncanny resemblance to her mother's markings.
Turning her attention back to the book, Eliza gingerly flipped through its pages. She hadn't perused the entire book as thoroughly as she should have, but at the very least, she had gathered crucial insights about the Verel. Amongst the pages, she found a section titled "Witch Betrothal."
"Objects play a pivotal role in a witch's betrothal, cementing the connection between the two lovers. Mystics too have ceremonies to mark betrothals, solidifying the bond with an ancient power that binds them eternally," Eliza read aloud, the words filling the room.
"Do you think it's really forever?" Eliza pondered aloud, her gaze shifting to Dawn. Dawn met her gaze, her lips pursed in contemplation. As Eliza turned the page, she noticed a scribbled addition on the back:
"Sometimes, breaking the betrothal requires sacrificing things you hold dear. The seal can be shattered by destroying the object that anchors the connection."
"That's some eerie stuff. Betrothals... that's like an engagement, right?" Dawn's voice broke through the silence, her tone tinged with unease.
"Yeah, but according to this, an object establishes the betrothal, and breaking the pact requires destroying whatever maintains that connection," Eliza muttered under her breath, her fingers closing the book with a puzzled frown. Her confusion lingered, but then her attention shifted to the lackluster rose she had touched earlier. "Pass me that rose."
Dawn walked over and handed her the rose, a hint of caution in her voice. "Are you sure you want to touch it again? Wait, are you thinking you might be betrothed?"
"Why else would my arm burn when I touched it?" Eliza retorted, taking the rose from Dawn's hand and regarding her with determination. "There's only one way to truly find out." Eliza attempted to snap the rose in her hand, but the force of the powerful magic within it flung her back against the bed. Dawn hurried to Eliza's side, ensuring she was unharmed, before promptly kicking the rose away from them.
"What the hell? Liz, are you alright?" Dawn's concern was evident in her voice.
"Yeah, that rose is definitely protected by some potent magic. We need to take it to Miss Canary; she might know what's going on. After all, she was the one who gave it to me when I was little," Eliza said, rising to her feet as Dawn grabbed the rose.
☆☆☆
Eliza's mind raced as thoughts of David resurfaced, his menacing presence still a looming threat. With the book in her hands, she delved back into its pages, hoping to glean more insights about mystics. Meanwhile, Dawn wandered off to tidy up their surroundings.
Uncertainty clouded Eliza's thoughts about Jared's whereabouts, her concern for his safety palpable. Though he might be a witch, she saw him as a cat and a loyal friend, well now brother.
Her attention shifted as she noticed Dawn holding the rose. "Locking it away sounds like a good idea, just in case we have any more unwelcome visitors searching for it and until we get the time to meet up with Miss Canary again," Dawn suggested.
Eliza nodded in agreement as she followed Dawn into her room. Watching as Dawn securely stowed the rose in a drawer, Eliza observed her twist the key, sealing the drawer shut, and tuck the key into her purse.
Turning her focus to the shifter page in her grimoire, Eliza read the words inscribed there. "Shifters are still fundamentally human, although some of their features may bear animalistic traits. They possess the ability to alter their appearance at will. When bitten or scratched by a corrupted shifter, the transformation is triggered, changing the individual into a shifter of the same animal, along with inheriting the associated abilities."
Eliza's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. David hadn't been a mystic initially; his transformation was instigated by a shifter's bite or scratch. While the details of mystics and corruption still eluded her, one thing was clear: David had resisted attacking her. He had been afraid of harming her. She knew it, sensed it. It seemed plausible that a shifter, perhaps a snake shifter, had infected him, not killing him outright. His disappearance after encountering Stacy now made sense.
The realization struck Eliza with force. "Oh my God," she muttered, the pieces of the puzzle aligning in her mind. David was Stacy's boyfriend, and she had noticed the yellow tint to Stacy's eyes. Stacy must have been a shifter, attempting to blend into the human world.
Her disappearance was likely due to the challenges shifters faced in maintaining a facade. Eliza's heart raced, and she swallowed hard, her throat constricting. Her gaze flicked to her phone, which vibrated, demanding attention. Leaping across the room, she answered the call.
"Hello?"
On the other end, nothing but breathing reached her ears. The line clicked, indicating the caller had hung up. In that tense moment, the doorbell rang. Eliza made her way to the front door, calling out to Dawn, "I'll get it!"
"Sure thing!"
With a deep breath, Eliza opened the door, only to find Stacy standing on the other side.